


Constantly Repenting For A Difficult Mind

by donniedont



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Friendship, Healing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont
Summary: Byleth has ordered Dimitri to develop mastery of faith-based magic.  While he initially reacts poorly to the assignment, he is provided support in multiple forms to succeed.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Marianne von Edmund, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Mercedes von Martritz, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 16
Kudos: 156





	Constantly Repenting For A Difficult Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: I just finished up the Blue Lions route and made the decision to make Dimitri a holy knight as an act of self care. So this is one part "Oh my God I can't believe I finally finished this route!" and one part ventfic. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Title is a lyric from "Stay Down" by boygenius. It's a Dimitri tune, so it might be worth listening to while reading!
> 
> Thank you very much for Scout for cheerleading to get me to post this!
> 
>  **Content Warnings:** Discussion of self harm scars, internalized ableism, brief mention of disordered eating

There’s comfort in the distance that Dimitri has created with people. Even if he is more lucid as of late, he is still terrified of himself. Conversations are uphill battles with his own mind, wondering if he will lash out in a way that will finally make everyone leave him in the rubble of the cathedral for good.

At least Dedue is back. In a world where he frequently gets caught up in the darkness, he’s grateful that Dedue is able to still be a source of light, even after all these years. Their conversations do not flow as easily as they used to, but Dedue seems to still be able to read him with a level of precision that has been unrivaled. In this moment, Dedue is sitting patiently in the pews, working on embroidery. The thrall of the destroyed pulpit has waned just enough that Dimitri drags his heels over, laying down along the pew next to him. Dedue is quiet for a long moment, the needle poking through the tight fabric and the thread whipping back and forth being the only sound as he glances down at Dimitri.

“Would you like to rest on me, Your Highness?” Dedue asks.

Dimitri grits his teeth. He is exhausted by the need for formalities. It feels like such an anachronism from the version of him that went to the academy five years ago, when he tried his best to present himself as the prince everyone desperately wanted him to be. It particularly stings when it’s someone like Dedue, who he has always longed to to be comfortable enough to allow himself to stand as equals.

Dedue puts his embroidery hoop down and Dimitri scrambles over toward his lap, Dedue guiding his head to rest on his thighs. His fingers brush against Dimitri’s head and Dimitri leans into the his touch. Dedue takes a quick breath and he begins to gently card his fingers through his hair. Dimitri sighs, unaware of how satisfying it is to be touched until it’s happening.

“I’m sorry my hair is…” Dimitri starts and Dedue hushes him, continuing the motion. They stay like this for a long moment until they hear the cathedral door open. Dimitri lifts his head, Dedue turning around and glaring at the entrance until his face softens. “Oh, good evening, Professor,” he says. Dimitri looks up over the pew for a brief moment before he lays his head down on Dedue’s lap again, Dedue resuming rubbing it.

Their former professor, Byleth, walks up to them, their boots clicking on the stone floor. They glance down at the two of them, saying, “Hello Dedue. Dimitri.” Dimitri tilts his head enough that he can watch Byleth, who has no discernable reaction to their intimacy. “Dimitri, can we talk?”

Dimitri says, “Yes. Dedue stays.”

Byleth nods. “I am having you study faith magic. My goal is to have you be able to be used as a healer during battle if necessary.”

Dimitri nearly jumps up on the pew in response. He watches them carefully for any sign that they’re joking. When it does not come, he says, “I am nothing more than a weapon, Professor. To have me develop any skills in that area will hold me back from that purpose.”

He feels Dedue watching him. He knows that Dedue hates when he speaks of himself this way, but it’s nearly involuntary at this point. Byleth closes their eyes for a moment before they say, “Most of the party has developed strong enough offensive skills that they can take more involved roles during combat. It’s essential that we have someone at the frontlines that has the capability to provide support for them. It could be critical for someone like Dedue, who is vulnerable to a fair amount of magic.”

Dimitri takes a sharp breath. He feels Dedue’s hand on his arm, the placement assumedly out of Byleth’s view. It’s a cheap trick to bring up Dedue, but it’s effective. Between Dedue’s willingness to take a hit for Dimitri and his heavy armor slowing him down, he knows that a quick healing spell could ensure Dedue’s safety in their continued attempts to take down Edelgard. But it’s difficult to imagine himself being able to do such a thing. Magic is not something he focused on at any point of his studies, even though he has vague recollections of Rodrigue attempting to teach him some type of spell when he was growing up. Even so, the lesson has fallen through the holes in his memory.

“Very well,” Dimitri says, “I will accept this assignment, though I cannot guarantee I will have the necessary aptitude for it.”

“I only ask that you make an attempt,” Byleth says, “I’m going to speak to Marianne and Mercedes. Perhaps we can have them tutor you. We need you to develop these skills as soon as possible.”

Dimitri presses his lips together, feeling a nasty retort forming in the back of his throat. He swallows it down, trying to focus on the small circles Dedue is pressing into the back of his arm and the sound of Byleth’s boots fading away as they exit the cathedral.

*

Byleth comes to Dimitri for lessons, politely asking him to stay in place before they return with the necessary texts. They try their best to be efficient, seemingly aware that Dimitri can’t process lengthy lectures or long text without spacing out or developing a headache. They even let Dedue stay for it, content to listen idly while Dimitri leans against him or has a hand loosely tangled in his scarf. 

He is further puzzled as to how he should interact with Mercedes and Marianne, as neither of them have brought up their assignment to tutor him. He watches them carefully whenever they stop by the cathedral or the rare times he is outside of the building, but the two of them only ever check in on him, say that he is looking better, and provide other idle pleasantries.

It takes until Dimitri is sitting against the wall of the dining hall for the two of them to approach him in tandem, settling down across from him with their rations. Dedue gets up to get his own for himself and Dimitri, leaving Dimitri alone with the two healers.

“So we were thinking we could start your tutoring sessions after we eat,” Mercedes says. It’s not a question. Mercedes knows better than to suggest Dimitri has a way out with this. “You can choose the location. We want you to be comfortable.”

He genuinely considers where he would feel the most comfortable. He focuses on his gloved hands, nearly jumping when Dedue gently places a bowl in front of him. 

“May I ask what’s happening?” Dedue asks.

“We’re having a tutoring session after dinner,” Marianne says, “We just need to figure out where to have it.”

Dedue hums. “The greenhouse is typically empty at this hour,” he suggests, “If you don’t mind my presence. I will be around tending to my plot.”

“Would you like to have the lesson in the greenhouse, Dimitri?” Mercedes asks.

Dimitri nods, not looking up initially. He eventually does, his focus on the space just over Mercedes and Marianne’s shoulders. 

They finish up their meal, Dimitri relatively quiet as Dedue, Marianne, and Mercedes speak to each other. He isn’t certain when Dedue and Marianne developed such an affable dynamic. They didn’t talk to each other much when she was recruited to the Blue Lions house. It’s not an unwelcome development, as he finds himself enjoying listening to the two of them fret over a bird that recently snuck into the greenhouse. Mercedes smiles knowingly the entire time, occasionally leaning in toward Dimitri to ask him direct questions on the topics being tossed around between everyone. Eventually, the three of them determine that he has played with his food long enough and they clean off the table, the four of them making their way toward the greenhouse.

Dedue is correct. The greenhouse is empty, aside from the woman who has worked there since they were students. Dimitri does not know much about her aside from the fact that she’s always been nothing but kind to Dedue, making her an ally, whether she knew it or not. She greets them, but does not pry, Dedue making his way toward his plants while Mercedes and Marianne take a seat on the opposite end, seemingly unbothered by the soil that seemed caked onto the path. Dimitri joins them, feeling somewhat ridiculous sitting in a circle as if they are schoolchildren about to play some sort of clapping game. 

“Is it possible that you can remove your gloves?” Mercedes asks, “It might be easier for us to help you with the flow of magic without any fabric concealing your hands.”

Dimitri looks down at his hands and back at her. “Mercedes,” he starts and she nods. 

“I-if this is about the scars,” Marianne starts. She quickly covers her mouth, looking away.

Dimitri clenches his fists, trying to take a deep breath. It takes everything inside him to not snap at Marianne, to tell her that even if everyone in the space knows about them, it is not her information to put out. Instead he focuses on removing his gauntlets and the gloves underneath them, letting the metal clatter against the floor. He contemplates pulling at the sleeves, but he knows Mercedes and Marianne’s eyes are trained to be able to tell the difference between the licks of burns and combat scars in comparison to the rows of white lines along one of his wrists. It’s a strange confession of a time before he saw actual combat. When he had to create his own pain as opposed to throwing himself into an enemy and taking a hit before he could take them down himself. 

“Professor said that you were studying a basic heal spell,” Mercedes says, “How about you show us!” She reaches over and picks up a leaf that is on the ground. She tears it and places it in the middle of the circle, her smiling suggesting that she is actually eager to see what Dimitri can do.

Dimitri sighs, setting his hands mechanically in front of him, mumbling the spell and creating a small, weak glow from his hands. The skeleton of a summoning circle presents itself, but it fades quickly. He grits his teeth, bringing his hand to his hair and yanking at it.

“Take a breath and try again,” Mercedes suggests.

Dimitri catches Dedue watching. They lock eyes for a brief moment before he focuses on the leaf again, repositioning his hands.

“May I make a suggestion?” Marianne asks.

Dimitri bares his teeth, but nods his head. 

“You should position your hands in the way you feel comfortable,” Marianne says, “It doesn’t actually make that much of a difference. Everyone has a unique casting style, so if it feels more natural to position them elsewhere, you should.”

Dimitri nods. He brings his hands down and raises them again, posing more as if he is holding a lance flat palmed in his hands. He murmurs the spell again, his hands growing warm as they began to glow yellow. The summoning circle reappears, this time more solid than the first attempt. He’s able to get the leaf to light up as it slowly fuses back together. He gets halfway through the leaf before he finds himself having to end the spell, his mind growing too clouded to continue.

“Let’s see!” Mercedes says. She picks up the leaf, bringing it between Marianne and herself. Marianne runs her finger along the leaf and nods approvingly as Mercedes says, “Great job, Dimitri!”

“I didn’t finish fixing it,” he starts. Mercedes seems entirely uninterested in his excuses as she brings the leaf over to Dedue, saying, “Look what Dimitri did!” Dedue gently takes the leaf from her hands and studies it, a smile gracing his face for a brief moment.

“I’m sorry again for bringing up your scars,” Marianne says.

Dimitri shrugs, focused on Mercedes and Dedue speaking to each other, their voices too soft for him to hear.

“It was out of line. I should not have brought attention to them.”

Dimitri sighs. “It’s the past,” he says, “I swore to all of you that I would move forward. I cannot dwell on my shame relating to them.” He still pulls his sleeve down toward his thumb anyway.

Marianne nods. She wills herself to smile the slightest bit at Mercedes when she returns to the circle. “What a great start!” Mercedes exclaims, “Let’s continue!”

*

Their tutoring sessions continue at the greenhouse after dinner, a strange tradition that Dimitri grows to apprehensively look forward to. As much as he doesn’t love casting magic, he enjoys the company of his tutors and Dedue, who seems content to cheer him on while handling his greenhouse responsibilities. They begin to test out how far he can cast his spells, Mercedes, Marianne, and Dedue floating among the flowers, making their way further and further toward the edge of the greenhouse until he can successfully cast the spell at them. The three of them provide approval in their own unique ways. Mercedes’s are always out loud, sometimes providing compliments while hiding in the massive leaves of a plant. Dedue’s affirmations come in the form of brief touches, like a finger pressed against his palm or leaning so close toward his temple, Dimitri wonders if he is ghosting a kiss. Marianne’s compliments are quieter, only delivered when she is at his side and nearly swallowed up by the Mercedes’s instructions for his next objective. They stop telling him to remove his gloves, but he does anyway, a vulnerability he does not mind exposing between the three of them.

Byleth appears sometimes, placing their hand under their chin and nodding approvingly as he shows his casting ability. They suggest he tests out the spells in the woods to push the extent of the distance and when he proves that he can effectively cast it with barely a visual on Mercedes, they say, “Excellent work, Dimitri. Be prepared to use these skills on our next assignment.” 

Dimitri barely has time to react, watching them turn on their heel and walk toward the monastery. He drops to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Casting magic is a different type of exhaustion, one that doesn’t weigh on his bones as much as it weighs on his soul.

“Your Highness, are you all right?” Dedue asks. He kneels down with him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

Dimitri nods, even though he is already falling against him. The two of them end up flopped across the grass, Dimitri’s head placed on Dedue’s stomach and Dedue’s hand caught in Dimitri’s hair, a motion that is beginning to appear frequently enough to be considered a habit.

“They really overexerted you back there,” Mercedes notes. She sighs, joining them on the grass. She looks at Dedue’s free arm expectantly and says, “May I?”

“Of course,” Dedue says before Mercedes fits herself against him. 

Dimitri glances up and sees Marianne taking a seat nearby. Her lips are quirked, her hand on the grass halfway between herself and the three of them. Dimitri reaches out, his hands barely touching hers. “You can join us, if you wish,” he suggests.

She nods, stiffly laying herself against his stomach. He grabs her hand and she grips it back, her body slowly relaxing against him.

Dimitri looks up at the sky, listening to the sound of everyone’s breathing and the breeze rushing through the leaves. Summer still rolling into Garreg Mach, a sign that progress has been happening, even if Dimitri doesn’t always feel that way. He feels Marianne shift against him, her other hand wrapped around his wrist as Dedue begins rubbing at his scalp and Mercedes softly snores. 

Dimitri feels his chest swell and before he knows it, tears are rolling awkwardly off his face, down on Dedue’s tunic. He opens up his mouth and sobs, unable to wretch his hands away from Marianne’s. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, a wail consuming his apology.

“Don’t be,” Mercedes assures him, suddenly awake and sitting up. 

“Why am I so broken?” he asks.

“It’s not that you’re broken,” she replies, “You’re just aching from carrying so much. We’re here to share this load with you.”

He continues to cry out to the sky and waits for one of them to tell him to stop. They never do and they do not leave until his tears are dry.

*

The next battle rolls in and it’s a team of bandits that are far more powerful than they let on. Byleth lets Dimitri spend most of the battle at the front, attacking with his lance as he finds himself best suited to. Dedue is at his side, where he belongs. He is able to hold his own until he’s caught up in the aura of a magic user. Dimitri yells for him as Dedue is unable to dodge the attack, being consumed by a wall of light and dropping to his knees.

“Dimitri, heal him,” Byleth orders, but Dimitri’s already setting his hand to cast a healing spell. Dedue shuts his eyes, only opening them when the spell is over. “You have my gratitude,” he says clumsily, though there’s a smile on his face that is more like the warm ones he’s been sporting when they’ve been in the greenhouse together.

“Nice work, Dimitri,” Byleth says. Dimitri turns around to nod and sees Marianne and Mercedes waving their hands in the distance.

“I must do whatever it takes, right?” Dimitri says in response. Byleth nods before they give another order and he faces ahead, prepared to lead his loved ones to victory.


End file.
